The Valar’s Atonement
by Wimsey1
Summary: The fellowship picks up a frightened and bewildered stranger in Hollin...
1. Chapter 1 Brothers and Sisters

**A/N:** I want my heroine to be believable. I hate it when a woman finds her self in Middle Earth and just accepts it. There should be shock, horror and complete unbelief.

Thank you to the best beta ever, Nieriel Raina. Any mistakes are my own and not hers.

Chapter 1 Brothers and Sisters

_The Eldar grew in bodily form slower than Men, but in mind more swiftly. They learned to speak before they were one year old; and in the same time they learned to walk and to dance, for their wills came soon to the mastery of their bodies_

_--JRR Tolkien, Laws and Customs of the Eldar, Morgoth's Ring_

Grace slammed on the brakes, threw the gear shift into park and jumped out of the car. She was late, but then it seemed she was late everywhere and had been for the past year. Why her brothers had insisted that they have this little impromptu rehearsal at the state park was beyond her. It wasn't that far from town, and normally she enjoyed the scenic spot. It was one of the trailheads for The Appalachian Trail, and it was a favorite picnic spot of theirs. Sometimes, they would hike in a few miles on the trail, stay for a weekend, and enjoy the sense of peace being cut off from the world brought, but now was not the time. She was so close to finishing her PH.D; the dissertation was written, had been accepted by her advisor, and all that was left was the meeting where she would defend her research before her dissertation committee.

Her brothers owned an Irish Pub in town, and they provided live music on the weekends. Since Grace had always loved music and had a fair singing voice, she would sometimes sing a song or two for them on the weekends. Life had been too hectic for that lately, however, and when the band they had booked backed out on them at the last moment, she found herself caving in. She minored in voice for her undergraduate degree, and she enjoyed singing; it was just a difficult time. When she talked with Matt, the older of her twin brothers, he mentioned a sibling picnic to accompany the rehearsal, she did not have the heart to refuse.

Her brothers were ten years older than she, and she had been their adored baby sister. They had watched over her, protected her and loved her, and after their Mom had died of cancer when she was only nine, they had cared for her. Their mother's death left the family shattered. Their Mom and Dad were deeply in love with each other, it was difficult for their Dad to pick up the pieces and to go on. Until he did, her brothers were the ones to make sure she got to school, her homework got done, and they held her when she cried sometimes they even cried with her. There was very little they could ask of her that she would not try to do for them. Once her Dad had recovered, they created a very happy, very close, little family unit. She had taken to mothering them all when she got older, and they had supported her when she had decided to complete her PH.D and apply for a post graduate fellowship at the British Library.

She sighed as she grabbed her bag from the car and followed the gravel path to the trail head. Sure enough, there they were, a picnic spread on one of the huge boulders that an ancient glacier left in its wake.

Mark, the younger of the twins, called out to her, "Finally the late Grace Winters has arrived."

She laughed as he bowed when he made this announcement. "Late, dear brother, is far better than never. So, no complaints, or I will take myself off and leave you with no one to sing on Saturday. Instead, you and your twin will have to hum, loudly."

"Come, sit, eat little sister, it looks as though you've been skipping too many meals while you have kept your nose stuck in your books". He eyed his sister critically. Grace's beauty was not classic, but the twins had always thought her beautiful. Now, she looked tired, and there were dark shadows under her gray eyes. Her skin, always fair, looked even paler than normal.

Grace looked like her mother, while the twins took after their father's family. She had their mother's porcelain skin, dark hair that fell to her shoulders and gray eyes. Straight, dark, delicate, brows lifted in wings above her almond shaped eyes. Her face had an other worldly beauty; she resembled what he always thought a fairy would look like. She was not tall, and her shape was slight and delicate. Now, however, she looked too delicate. He and Matt had talked about their worries, that was one reason they had insisted she join them for lunch. They wanted her to relax, eat and take some time out from her frantic schedule. They knew she was nervous about her upcoming dissertation defense, but she had worn herself down too far. It was time to take action. Worrying about Grace came naturally to them.

She had always been an unusual child. She immersed herself in books, music and nature. She also grew much more slowly than most children. They remembered their mother's concern. It was obvious that Grace was intelligent; in fact, she had surpassed all other children her age in that type of development. She had always been wise beyond her years. It was her physical growth where she lagged. She did not even entered puberty until she was past eighteen. They took her to doctors who could find nothing wrong, and it was difficult for three men to deal with a young girl who lagged so far behind her peers in this area. It was a hard enough time for a girl without the added complications Grace endured. Luckily, Grace's sunny personality and charm won her many friends. They were patient and understanding with her. She may not have been invited to dances and parties that other girls of her age were immersed in, but she seemed to take it well. She said it gave her more time with her books. Her late development also prevented her from starting her dating life at the same time as her friends. She had many friends who were male, they, however, regarded her as a little sister. They would come to her for advice about their girlfriends, and she would solemnly instruct them on what to say and do; invariably, her advice was well thought out and helpful.

Grace was twenty-five and she still looked about eighteen. She finally matured, but still had little interest in the opposite sex, except as friends. When she was younger, the twins and their father were relieved they did not have to worry about her dating, but now they were concerned because she seemed so uninterested in it.

They nagged at her about it so much that she had finally lost her temper. "It seems that you would all know by now that I do things in my own time. When I find someone to be interested in, you will know, but STOP PUSHING!"

It made Grace an oddly attractive mix of youthful innocence and wise maturity. While she may not have found someone yet to love, there were many that were interested in her. She dated casually now and then, but she was more interested in meeting her goals than she was in finding a lover. She enjoyed her life. She had friends; her brothers, her dad and her work. Instinctively, she knew that she was not cut out for casual relationships and when the time was right she would find the one meant for her. Until then, she was happy.

They had eaten well. Grace had watched in amusement as her brothers kept heaping food on her plate. Now, they lounged on the large boulders, and Matt and Mark watched as some of the worries and cares had slipped from their sister's shoulders.

Finally, Grace yawned, "If you want to get any rehearsing done, we better start soon. I had to postpone a meeting with my advisor in order to come, and I have to leave in an hour or so".

Matthew grinned at her and said, "Okay, come on squirt".

She narrowed her eyes back at him and asked, "So, you have brushed up on your humming skills"?

Reviews are always nice, and they inspire motivation and incentive. They are a satisfying reward for the effort it takes to create a story.


	2. Chapter 2 Between Two Worlds

Chapter 2 Between Two Worlds

_"Yet from that hour on he loved Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Elrond."_

--JRR Tolkien, _Appendix A, _Return of the King 

**A/N **Thank you to the best beta ever, Nieriel Raina. Any mistakes are my own and not hers.

The Fellowship left Imladris on a cold winter's night. It was a solemn and quiet group that filed out of the Last Homely House. The weather was foul, cold, foggy and wet. They left with the blessing and admonition that Elrond had given them. None of them, save the ring bearer, was tied to go any farther on the quest than their own will required. All of them - the two men, the wizard, the four hobbits, the dwarf and the elf - knew they would not abandon the quest, and in truth, they had pledged their very lives to see it succeed.

They traveled by night and slept during the day in order to avoid the eye of the enemy, and their journey had been unnaturally without incident. The weather remained harsh, the mist seemed unnatural and they had not seen the sun yet during their journey. They were following the route that Gandalf had set for them, keeping west of the Misty Mountains.

Finally, after many days of traveling, the sun had deigned to shed its light on them. The landscape surrounding them brightened, and the air seemed fresher and their spirits lifted in response. Legolas explained they had entered the land of Hollin, and although it was uninhabited now, elves once lived there. Any land that once housed elves remembered the grace they brought to it. The further they traveled into this fair land, the lighter their hearts were. They were now traveling during the day and resting at night and that seemed more natural to all of them. They started that morning with high spirits; the sun was shinning and the weather was cool and brisk - invigorating, rather than dampening their spirits. Breakfast had been hearty (that made the hobbits happy) and the evil they were marching toward seemed far away.

As the traversed the rise of a hill, the elf raised his head, senses suddenly alert. He stood still for a moment, and then bounded ahead of the group searching for what caught his attention. He had run some distance ahead before coming to stand stock still at the edge of a rise of land. When the rest of the group came closer to him, they also heard what had caught his attention. A voice was on the air, and it was accompanied by strange music. It was a pleasant voice, although the music and words were unlike any they had ever heard before. Sam whispered to Frodo that perhaps all the elves hadn't left this land, maybe that's what they were hearing.

When they all came to stand next to Legolas, they realized that the explanation was far more complicated. The group stood at the top of a natural rock wall, and there was a short drop down to a grassy expanse that rolled down and away. Sitting on some boulders towards the bottom of the slope were two men playing strange instruments. Behind the men stood a woman, the source of the voice they had heard. A shimmering veil of light separated the two groups.

After their first observation, they begin to notice discrepancies that occurred on the other side of the veil. The landscapes did not match up. The sky looked different on the other side. The placement of the sun was wrong. It became obvious that what they were seeing was not in the same location as they were. Legolas seemed transfixed by the scene.

Aragorn stepped closer to Gandalf and whispered, "What is this? Is it a trap of the enemy?"

"I sense no evil," the wizard replied. "I believe it is a rift between times. I have seen brief instances of such phenomenon before in my travels. They seldom last long. It is best if we wait quietly and the fissure will repair its self."

The rest of the group settled in to make themselves comfortable while they waited. They had walked a good ways that morning, and it was no hardship to rest and listen to the music and voice that came from below them.

It was apparent that the two men were twins, for they were exact replicas of each other, and all three of the strangers were dressed in very peculiar clothing, different from anything the members of the Fellowship had ever seen. When the woman's face was turned to a more favorable angle it was obvious that the three were closely related

The fellowship gazed in wonderment at the three on the other side of the wavering veil, each of the wondering where and when the scene before them was taking place.

Gimli, Aragorn and Gandalf made themselves comfortable and were puffing on their pipes; Boromir was seated close to them, and they were talking softly. Legolas still stood exactly where they had found him, his focus on the group below intense. Aragorn, noticing this, stood and walked to the elf, and what he saw in his face shocked and surprised him. The expression on the elf's face, the glow in his eyes, was very much what Aragorn imagined his face had looked like when he first beheld Arwen walking among the white birches in Imladris. Looking closer, he saw Legolas' gaze was fixed on the young female below them.

Standing close, Aragorn said softly, "She is from a different place and time my friend, and she is mortal. She is not meant for you."

Legolas finally broke his stare and turned to the Ranger. "Then why does her soul call so strongly to mine? I am an anomaly among my kin. Most have wed by the time they reach my age; I had resigned myself to walking the path of life alone and was content to do so, yet in one moment that resignation and contentment has been shattered."

"Gandalf says the cleft will soon mend itself, and you will never see her again," Aragorn replied. "It is best to put her out of your mind."

Turning back to watch the vista below, the elf murmured, "As you would have done with Arwen in the same situation?"

Aragorn had no answer to that, so he simply returned to his seat and watched his friend sadly. He knew the ways of elves, he had been raised among them. His friend had found the one whose soul matched his, and she was lost to him before he had a chance to know her. He would spend the rest of his immortal life alone, not even with the hope of finding a mate. It would have been better if the elf had never known that Ilúvatar had created the one meant for him, only to separate them cruelly by space, time and race.

It looked as though the trio was finished; they were packing up their strange instruments, and they all three walked together and disappeared into the tree line that existed in the strange world on the other side of the shimmering barrier between them. Legolas still had not moved; he stood tensed and waiting as though unable to believe that she had disappeared forever. Aragorn glanced at Gandalf who shook his head. They would wait a bit longer.

Finally, the elf sighed and started to turn away, sorrow filling his eyes. Then, a soft sound caught his ear, and he wheeled back around. The girl was reentering the clearing. She was laughing and calling over her shoulder in a strange language.

They watched as she walked to the boulder she had stood on and looked carefully at its surface. She spoke again as she lifted a small bag in her hand. At that moment, the shimmering veil wavered, and a brilliant flash blinded all their eyes; with an audible pop, the curtain was gone. When the group's eyes readjusted, they could see that although the landscape below had returned to normal, the continuity undisturbed, one thing from that other time and place had remained. The woman was rubbing her eyes and looking around in bewilderment.

**A/N** - Tolkien indicated that elves love differently than humans, that their connection is one of souls; and he has instances in his stories of souls recognizing the one created for them at their first meeting.


	3. Chapter 3 Fear

**A/N **Once again, I must thank my wise and wonderful beta, Nieriel Raina. Any errors are my own, and not hers.

_The only thing we have to fear is fear itself_….

FDR first Inaugural, March 4,1933 –

Chapter 3 Fear

Grace blinked. The light was so brilliant, it temporarily blinded her, and there were still black spots lingering in her vision. She made to take a step, but gasped as her head swam and her stomach did a flip. She leaned over and put her hands on her knees as she took a moment to get her bearings. After a few deep breaths, Grace began to feel better, and straightening up, she turned and called out to her brothers, "Did you see that? What _was _it?" She frowned when there was no reply. That was odd; she knew they could not have missed the light show, in truth, she was somewhat surprised they had not run immediately to make sure she was all right. "Matt, Mark," she called, "where are you?" Worry began to curl within her, something wasn't right.

She started towards the gap in the trees where the gravel path led to the car park. 'Wait a moment,' Grace thought. The trees looked "different"; they were thicker, and there were types of trees she had never seen before. She pivoted her body in a slow circle, looking around her as she turned. The air smelled different: fresher, cleaner, and the sun was in the wrong place - it had been dipping towards the horizon in the west, but now it was just past its zenith. The boulder she and her brothers picnicked on was gone, and a small stand of saplings stood in their place. The whole clearing looked different, and a sharp feeling of panic clutched at her.

She called again loudly, "Matt, Mark?" When they did not answer, she started walking towards where the path should be, her feet picking up speed as she went. Frantically, she searched for something, anything that looked familiar. This wasn't possible, places didn't just change. Perhaps, the flash knocked her out, maybe she was hallucinating, or maybe it was some type of bomb and she was dead. Was this heaven? She rebuked herself, 'oh, wonderful, that was a comforting thought.' If this was heaven, where were the angels? And her mom surely would be here to greet her. What was happening to her, and why were her brothers not answering her? She called their names again all but screaming them in her alarm.

On the ridge above, Gandalf rose to stand by the elf. Aragorn joined him, while the rest of the fellowship stood around them and watched the panic stricken woman search frantically for something among the distant stand of trees. All the time, her voice was calling over and over again as though she was looking for someone.

Aragorn turned to Gandalf, "She will raise every Orc within miles if we do not quiet her."

Gandalf nodded his head, "Yes, and we can not leave her here, hoping a passageway back to her time will appear." He sighed, "It appears she must join us, and I do not think she is going to be receptive to the idea."

Legolas turned and said sharply, "I do not wish to frighten her; she is already near terror."

"We will do our best not to, but I fear it will be inevitable," Aragorn replied. He jumped down to the grass below the small wall they stood upon. Legolas followed.

As Boromir made to join them, Gandalf placed his hand on his arm, "We do not wish to overwhelm her; wait and only go if they need your aid." Boromir nodded, and they turned to watch as the elf and human made their way to where the frantic woman was.

Grace continued to walk along the tree line, calling her brother's names periodically. There was nothing, _nothing_ that looked familiar. The gravel path had disappeared; the wooden post that marked the trail head along with a map of the complete route on it was gone. The trees were thicker, and it was dark where she peered into the forest. She felt oddly reluctant to enter the woods. At least here there was a clear view of her surroundings; within the trees she could very easily become lost. After all her brothers knew where she was, they must be aware that something bizarre had happened; they would look for her.

Her musings were interrupted by a soft musical voice. The language was unfamiliar to her, although the intonation at the end of the sentence made it seem as though a question was being asked. She turned, and what she saw made her bite back a smile. The wilderness of the Appalachians attracted all types: in the summer there were numerous organizations that hosted highland games honoring the Celtic roots that many of the first settlers shared, and Civil War reenactors were common. While she was in undergraduate school, there was even a group that used to do a Robin Hood type of expedition. They were more into the drinking and wenching thing she suspected. These two men before her must also be involved in a similar type of activity. They certainly looked authentic; she would give them that. They had gone all out on costumes, weapons, 'and maybe even wigs,' she thought, eyeing the long blonde hair of the tall lean man before her.

"Did you see that flash of light earlier?" Grace asked. The two men looked confused, as though they did not understood her. She tried again, "Do you know what's happened? I can't find the path to the car park, and I can't find my brothers. It looks as though everything has changed. Frankly, I am little freaked out right now."

They shook their heads at her, and the blonde replied in the strange language he had spoken in before. She wrinkled her brow. The cadence and tone sounded familiar. Ah, yes now she had it. It reminded her of Astrid, a friend from college. Her parents were Norwegian, and her home was bilingual. She had taught Grace a few phrases, and the words they spoke reminded her a little that language. Racking her memory, she came up with a phrase that would seem appropriate.

Haltingly, she said in Norwegian, "My name is Grace Winters."

They still seemed confused. The dark-haired man pointed to himself and said, "Aragorn," and pointing at the blonde, he said, "Legolas." Then, he went on to say something else, and she frowned in concentration. A few of the words seemed familiar. They reminded her of a very old form of English. She recalled learning to speak some of it for a class she took, and still remembered slugging through Beowulf in Old English. Maybe these people were so into their roles, they had adopted the archaic language to go with it.

She shook her head in frustration and asked, "Do you speak English?" Grace was so intent on trying to understand what they were saying, she did not immediately notice that the taller blonde-headed man was slowly edging around behind her. Now, a fission of unease rippled down her spine. She had lived in New York and attended college there for her undergraduate degree; and her dad had insisted that she take a self defense course, one thing they had taught her was to trust her instincts. If a situation makes you uncomfortable, remove yourself from it. When she first saw these two, they seemed a welcome sight, but now she was suddenly conscious of her isolation.

The dark haired man said something to her, and pointed up the slight grade to the trees. Grace shook her head and shrugged. A few words seemed tantalizing familiar, but she still couldn't understand them. There was the merest hint of a pause, before the one named Aragorn said something else to the man standing behind her Grace heard him answer in the strange tongue, she sensed him moving closer to her. Grace had hoped she was wrong, but now she knew she needed to get away from these two. She wasn't going to wind up another statistic on the evening news. Stepping slowly away from them both, she tensed to run.

A barely perceptible nod from Aragorn to Legolas, and the man behind her wrapped one arm around her waist. Legolas murmured something that sounded comforting in her ear, but she was definitely not comforted, she was terrified. Grace screamed as loud and long as possible until a large hand covered her mouth. Reaching back with her foot, she kicked the shin of the man holding her as hard as possible. She heard a grunt of pain, and he loosened his grip just enough so that she could ram her elbow into his diaphragm. He let go, and she ran as fast and she could. Those trees that seemed ominous before, now suddenly, seemed very friendly. She could hear no footsteps behind her, but resisted the urge to look back, knowing it would slow her down. She would like to keep on screaming, but did not want to waste her breath.

Just before she could reach the cover of the woods, a hand closed over her arm, spinning her around. The blonde named Legolas stood before her, and she could swear there was sorrow in his eyes. His tone was kind and concerned when he spoke to her, but she continued to struggle. She tried to yank her arm away, but he was far too strong, and she was surprised she was able to get away from him the first time. She opened her mouth to scream again, but Aragorn, who came up behind her, clapped a hand over it before she could get a sound out.

Grace continued fighting the hold the blonde had on her until finally, the dark haired man sighed and tied a gag around her mouth. Legolas picked her up, and they turned and began to climb up a hill. Grace stayed still, tears running down her face. She closed her eyes and promised herself she would do everything she possibly could to survive what ever was going to happen. She would not give in; she did not want to die.

**A/N **Reviews are welcomed and even requested. They really do motivate me to work harder on my stories. If you are so inclined I would greatly appreciate hearing from you!


	4. Chapter 4 Introductions

Chapter 4 Introductions

_--Getting to know you, getting to know all about you….._

_---Music by Richard Rogers, Lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein II; 1951—_

**A/N **Once again, I must thank my wise and wonderful beta, Nieriel Raina. Any errors are my own, and not hers.

Grace kept her eyes closed until she felt the earth under her feet. Instinctively, she raised her hands to pull the offending gag from her mouth. The one that had carried her reached out and circled both wrists with one hand. His grip was gentle, but she knew she could not break it. She glared into his eyes. He returned her gaze steadily and shook his head. The one named Aragorn stood beside him. So intent was she on these two that she literally jumped when a voice spoke on the other side of her. Swiveling her head, her eyes widened when she saw the person standing there.

A tall man dressed in long gray robes stood before her. His hair and beard were long, and they too were gray. What caught her attention were his eyes. The color was blue, but there was wisdom and _kindness _in them. How was that possible? He was friend to the two men who had just physically restrained her and carried her away against her will. There should be no kindness here. The old man took a step towards her and lifted his hand to her forehead, her first instinct was to pull away from his touch, but she found herself unable to move. She did not know how long they stood there, it could have been only a minute, it could have been hours. She felt as though he was rifling through the attic of her mind, discovering things that were long forgotten and unused. Something stirred within her, an innate ability that had always resided there, unlooked for and unknown, until this gray man awoke it.

He murmured a few words in a language she didn't understand, and then turned to Legolas, "You can release her now." Grace was shocked to realize that she understood the strange tongue he spoke, understood it as though it was native to her. Idly, she wondered if she now could speak it too. Who was this man that carried such power? What did they want with her? She lifted her hands and removed the gag from her mouth and prepared to scream, but then realized she had no desire to do so. The fear and anger were still there, they were just caged in her mind where she couldn't access it, couldn't _use_ it. She felt calm and detached.

The old man smiled down at her, "There that should be better. Now, come and sit, for we will be traveling together, and we should all get to know each other." Before she could blink, she found her feet following him obediently. He gestured to a large rock, and mindlessly, she sat down. Looking around her, she saw there were several other members of the party that had gone unnoticed by her, so intent was her focus on the long bearded man. They were grouped together in a semicircle around her. The gray man came to sit beside her. "Now," he said, "why don't we start with you. Tell us your name child." Before she could open her mouth to speak, she heard the soft tones of the one who had restrained her earlier.

"Her name is Grace…Grace Winters." She turned to look at him, and Legolas smiled and gave her a small nod of his head.

"Grace," the bearded man repeated, smiling as he murmured it, "unusual, but a lovely name nonetheless. Well, Grace," he went on to say, "let me introduce you to the hobbits." 

"What on earth are hobbits?" Grace asked. She started as she heard the words come from her mouth. That answered her earlier question, she could indeed speak the strange language; not only could she speak it, but it sounded natural coming from her mouth. This was a puzzle, one she was reluctant to dwell upon right now.

Waving his hand to the first four sitting on her right, he said, "These are hobbits." Grace observed the ones he indicated. 'Hobbits', she thought, 'they look more like children.' Her eyes ran over them, and she revised her opinion; not children, but those feet, the shape of their ears, they certainly didn't look like anything she had ever seen.

The bearded man continued to speak. Pointing to the dark haired one nearest her, the one with the haunted looking eyes, he said, "This is Frodo Baggins." He moved on to the hobbit sitting next to Frodo, a plumper specimen, "This is Samwise Gamgee." Next, he pointed to a thinner one with strangely innocent eyes, "Peregrine Took, and last but not least, Meriadoc Brandybuck."

The names sounded strange to her ears, but she nodded her head at each one of them as they were introduced. This whole situation seemed surreal to her. She felt as though she were in her Grandmother's front parlour being introduced to a circle of her friends. She almost expected someone to ask if she would like a cup of tea.

Frodo looked up at her and smiled. "We enjoyed listening to your music."

"Indeed, we did!" Samwise agreed wholeheartedly. When Grace thanked him, he was quick to add, "Oh, just Sam will do, ma'am."

Peregrin piped up, "Everyone calls me Pippin, and I hope you will as well!"

"Course, she will, Pip," Meriadoc replied. Turning, he added, "My friends all call me Merry, and since I'm sure we will be great friends, I want you to do so too." Then, he gave Pippin a smug look along with an elbow in the ribs.

Although the fear and anger were still present behind the cage the old man

locked them into, Grace relaxed and was beginning to feel as though she had fallen down a rabbit hole. The introductions continued. There was a man named Boromir, son of Denethaor, and a dwarf, a dwarf for God's sake! Gimli, son of Gloin. These people were seriously into genealogy. Boromir nodded to her and gave her a smile. The dwarf stood, bowed, and told her he was at her service.

Before she could stop herself, the words, "I don't suppose there are six more of you around anywhere," popped out. That drew a curious gaze from them all, and Legolas snorted rather loudly.

Finally, the tall gray robed man introduced himself as a wizard named Gandalf. Gesturing to the two who brought her there, he said, "I believe you have already met Aragorn, a man of the North, and Legolas, an elf from the forest of Mirkwood. She turned to look at Legolas when Gandalf said that. "An elf?" she asked with disbelief in her voice.

He nodded, "Yes, Grace, an elf."

Grace was speechless, She had several thoughts running through her head, probably none of which should be spoken out loud. She wanted to know how much plastic surgery it took for the hobbits to get feet that size, and why on earth would anyone want feet that size. Why were their ears shaped that way? Looking at the "elf", she realized his ears where more finely pointed than the hobbits. What was the significance of that? She wondered what shape the "dwarf's" ears were. This was a very strange group. These people were not openly threatening, but they were all armed. It didn't matter that the weapons they carried were primitive, she was quite sure they could easily deal out death and mayhem. The presence of so many sharp pointy things did not make her feel very comfortable.

She became aware that they were all looking at her, and she said the first thing that came to her mind, "Please, just let me go home. I don't care what kind of game you are playing. I don't care where you are going. My brothers are down there looking for me right now. I promise not to tell them or anyone about you if that is what you want. I just want to go home," and at that she lowered her head as tears began to well up in her eyes.

Gandalf dismissed the others with a wave. When she lifted her head, she realized she was alone with the wizard and the elf. She rather wished it was just the wizard; she felt a little more comfortable with him. His brief foray through her mind created some kind of peculiar connection between them. The elf and wizard were talking in another language she couldn't understand. Why did this strange group speak so many different languages, languages she was certain they made up? They were surely not similar to any language she was familiar with.

"She is frightened," Legolas told Mithrandir, "and I want to stay with her."

"There is nothing you can do, Legolas. She must be told what has happened, although I doubt she will believe it, at least not immediately. I believe most of the magic of the world has been forgotten in the time she comes from. We are nothing more than stories to her."

"I care not. She is my responsibility, Mithrandir. She does not know it yet, and I realize that now is not the time for me to act upon it; but my soul recognizes hers, reaches for hers. I want to protect her, to help her."

"And what, young Legolas, do you suppose I will do to her? I only want to help her start to understand what has occurred, and what it will mean to her future." Legolas just looked at the wizard, and finally, Gandalf sighed, "Very well then, stay. Just try to be unobtrusive." Legolas nodded.

Grace watched the conversation with interest; after all, they may have been discussing just how they were going to kill her for all she knew. The elf kept glancing at her and seemed frustrated with the wizard. She really didn't know which one to root for. It was obvious, though, that her request to be let go was not going to be honored. Finally, the elf stepped back a couple of paces, and the wizard turned to look at her.

"Grace, remember the bright light you saw," he began. She nodded. "It was a rift in the fabric of time; you are no longer in the time or place you were before. Your brothers will not find you, and I know of no way to return you to where you belong. You are in a wilderness, and the time you have come to is on the cusp of great change. There is evil abroad in these lands, evil you cannot possibly understand, and to leave you here alone would be tantamount to murder. You may not believe me, but we have your best interests at heart. You will journey with us, until we can find a safe place for you to stay, then if we vanquish this evil, and if I survive, I promise to return and help you. This place and time are now your home."

Grace stared at him. "What you are telling me is not possible; it is not true. My brothers _are_ down there, they are looking for me, and they will be worried. Time travel is a myth, a story, you are lying to me. What do you want with me? I do not want to stay here. I do not want to travel with you. I want to go home!" With each word her voice rose, and by the time she finished, she was almost hysterical.

Gandalf once again laid his hand on her head, whispering words of power that eased her panic. When he drew back, he looked at her and murmured the word "Curious." Once again she felt calm descend.

When she pulled her gaze from Gandalf's, her eyes fell on the elf. He remained silent during her exchange of words with the wizard, but he was watching her intently. He moved forward, until he was in front of her and crouched before her. "All of us here have a task to which we are pledged, but I too promise you, if we survive, if we prevail, I will find you, and I will help you."

She looked into his eyes and saw only kindness and care there. Slowly, she nodded.

**A/N **I thank all of you who have taken time to review, I appreciate them, save then and enjoy them, Reviews are much appreciated and I love hearing from all of you.


	5. Chapter 5 Plotting

Chapter 5: Plotting

_--"Now the Eldar hold to each elf child a new fea is given, not akin to the fear of the parents" --_

_--J.R.R. Tolkien, Morgoth's Ring—_

**A/N **Once again, I must thank my wise and wonderful beta, Nieriel Raina. Any errors are my own, and not hers.

Grace curled her self tighter into the cloak that was covering her. The group had left soon after her conversation with Gandalf and Legolas. They walked for hours it seemed. She was exhausted. She thought of herself as a fairly fit person, she hit the gym when she could and walked almost everywhere when it was possible. But fear and worry along with the unaccustomed hours of walking drained her energy. Still, she was unable to find sleep. The two hobbits called Merry and Pippin walked with her part of the time. They asked endless questions that she wasn't sure how to answer. What did she do, where did she live, was she courting anyone? She gave brief replies, she was a student, she lived with her Dad and two brothers, and no, she was not "courting" anyone. They were so friendly it was difficult not to warm to them. They obviously held each other dear, and yet their constant bantering spoke of a long and caring friendship. After a while the two hobbits noticed her reticence and had moved farther ahead.

Gandalf and Aragorn led the party, and then came Sam and Frodo. Gimli followed with Boromir, and Legolas brought up the rear. The two other hobbits bounced around talking to anyone they could engage in conversation. After they left, Boromir had moved to walk beside her. They journeyed in silence for awhile, until finally he spoke. "I know you are frightened, and to be sure, I do not blame you, but you are traveling with good and honorable folk."

"Tell me," she asked "how is it honorable to force someone to accompany you who does not wish to do so? How is it honorable to take someone from their family? My brothers and father love me very much; they will be out of their minds with worry. My father is not young; this could make him ill, or worse. Forgive me if I find no honor among any of you."

Legolas, having heard their conversation, moved up beside them. "Mithrandir explained to you what happened; I thought you understood we have no choice. We could not leave you behind."

"You really expect me to believe that fairy tale he spun for me. Time travel is impossible. It exists only in science fiction and fantasy. It is not real. If he needs to justify all of your actions, he would do better to come up with something more believable," Grace scoffed. "And why do you call him Mithrandir? He told me his name was Gandalf."

The elf looked evenly at her. "Mithrandir does not lie. He is an Istari sent by the Valar to aid Middle Earth in its fight against evil. I call him Mithrandir because that is what the elves call him, other peoples have their own names for him, Grace," he said, reaching for her hand, "it is best if you accept what has happened to you, for it cannot be changed. We all want to help you find a new life here among us. I do not want you to be afraid. I would offer you comfort for the loss of your family if I knew how to do so."

His hand was warm and comforting. He looked so kind, so believable. She would like to believe him. She thought he believed what he was saying to her. In fact, all of them seemed to believe what the wizard had told her. Perhaps, whatever mind control he used on her, worked with these people. She was tired and confused. He seemed so sincere, and yet she could not bring herself to trust him. Pulling her hand away, she stiffened her spine.

"The only way you can help me is by letting me go home." She walked quickly ahead of the elf and the man. Her stiff steps making it clear she did not want to be bothered.

Grace did not know what the wizard had done to her, but she did know that as soon as she got a chance, she would run. There may be nine of them, but they could not watch her every second. They had made no attempt to harm her, and at the moment, she did not feel threatened. Although, with people who lived in fantasy worlds that could change. What if they all decided she was part of this evil they kept talking about?! What if they decided a sacrifice would appease the evil and here she was all available. No matter how kind they acted, they were not in touch with reality, and that made them unpredictable and dangerous. She was surprised they had not restrained her.

After they stopped for the night, she had needed to find a place to relieve her bladder. When she had stepped towards the trees on the edge of the camp, Aragorn and Gimli had stopped her, but after they realized what she needed, the man pointed to a tree that was few yards away. Go no farther than that point, or I will come after you. I will be able to hear you if you do. And then he had patted her shoulder and smiled at her kindly. When they had settled down for the night she was sure they would tie her up or something.

Grace was finding it difficult to understand the motives of these people. Other than constraining her to traveling with them against her will, they treated her with kindness and respect. She thought of herself as a good judge or character, and in truth, if she had met any of the members of this group under different circumstances, she would have thought them a bit strange, but basically good and decent people. At dinner, they shared their rations gladly. A brief smile passed over her face as she remembered the small hobbit named Pippin telling her to eat the last sausage, he didn't need it. The look on his face gave contrary evidence to his words, and the happiness that flashed from his eyes when she said she was far to full to eat another bite was very amusing. Boromir offered her his cloak for warmth, insisting she take it when she hesitated.

What she had to do was remain docile, follow their orders, give no indication that she meant to run, and then she would wait for her chance. Surely it was simply a matter of finding a road of some sort and following it until it led to some sort of civilization. Even within the wilderness of the Appalachians, there would be some access roads, or ranger's stations. She would act as though she accepted her plight, and their ridiculous reasoning behind it. Eventually they would lessen their constant supervision of her. Looking around the camp; she could make out the four hobbits huddled together. The wizard was propped up against a rock dozing. Aragorn and Gimli were absent. They said they would take first watch, although she had no idea what they were watching for. Boromir was wrapped up on the other side of the fire, and the elf was standing with his arms around his bow looking at her. He had watched her off and on all day. At first it made her nervous wondering what he was planning, but she did not sense that he meant her any harm. It was more as if he was watching after her, which was absolutely crazy. She remembered the look in his eyes as he had promised to help her once he was finished with his task against this evil they all kept muttering about. For a fleeting moment she believed him, accepted his kindness as truth.

The wizard, now that was a whole other puzzle. She liked him, how strange was that? He seemed like a kind, wise, grandfatherly figure. Then she thought of other charismatic leaders who had held their followers in thrall. Imagines of buildings burning in Waco, bodies being carried out of a home in Hollywood Hills, all because people had followed such leaders and were willing to die for what they taught them to believe. Sighing and realizing she was getting nowhere with all of this thinking, she rolled over and tried to make herself sleep. If tomorrow was anything like today had been, she was going to need it. She wanted to keep her strength up so when she had an opportunity to get away she was strong enough to take it.

Legolas watched the woman toss and turn, until she finally fell into an uneasy sleep. Her words this afternoon had filled his heart with pain.

When he first heard the sound of her voice, it called to something within him. Seeing her through the shimmering veil of time, Legolas felt completeness in his soul, as though a piece that he did not even know had been missing was returned. When Aragorn spoke to him and told him what Mithrandir said, it tore at his heart. Then the crack in time closed, leaving her behind, and he felt as though the Valar had given him a gift. He did not realize how frightened she would be, how much sorrow would be hers because of the separation from her family. In the first rush of joy, he did think of the danger she was now in. She would be safer in her own time. If the Fellowship did not succeed, Sauron would cover Middle Earth with darkness; there would be no safety for her here.

He sighed as he thought of the way elves typically courted and wed. It was not unusual for souls to recognize each other, but then there would be a time of courtship, so that the two could come to understand and learn about each other. After a time, they would plight their troth, and then sometime after the first year they would bind themselves together, body and soul for all eternity.

He did not know if he and Grace would ever have the chance to follow this path. He was committed to the Fellowship, and Grace was unable to understand the truth of her circumstances. If the quest succeeded, if he survived, they would have all the time in the world. He would keep that thought, it made him even more determined to make sure the ringbearer was able to complete his mission.

He looked up as Mithrandir came to sit beside him. "She will come to understand, we must give her time. She is not human you know."

Legolas glanced at him and murmured, "I know. I sensed it when I held her. Do you plan on telling her?"

"I think, young Legolas, that is a revelation for another time. But I will tell you this: I believe she belongs here, that the portal between times was not an accident. Her spirit is elven, but it has been masked in a body that looks mortal, remaining in that other time would have brought her more pain in the end. There would have been no one there to help her understand why she was different. Once she accepts the truth of her situation, she will have much to learn. She must come to understand a whole new way of life. It will be difficult for her, and it will take time for her to adjust to what she is." Gandalf peered at the elf, "You truly believe that she is meant for you?"

Legolas answered "You know the way of the elves, the gift given to us by Iluvartar. We know when we have found the one intended for us; she will come to realize it eventually. We are elves...there is no rush, and I can be patient."

That is good, because I believe you will need to be."

**A/N **I thank all of you who have taken time to review, I appreciate them, save then and enjoy them, Reviews are much appreciated and I love hearing from all of you.


	6. Chapter 6 Plotting Implemented

Chapter 6 Plotting Implemented

_The Nandor are the host of Dân, the Wood-elves, the Wanderers, the Axe Elves, the Green Elves and the Brown the Hidden People … The Sindar are the Lemberi, the Lingers; they are the Friends of Ossë, the Elves of the Twilight, the Silvern, the Enchanters, the wards of Melian, the Kindred of Luthien, the people of Elwë…_

_----JRR Tolkien, Chapter 3: Of the Coming of the Elves, Morgoth's Ring----_

**A/N **Once again, I must thank my wise and wonderful beta, Nieriel Raina. Any errors are my own, and not hers

Grace put her plan into motion the next morning. Sam woke her by asking if she wanted some breakfast. Getting up, she walked over to where the four hobbits were sitting and started a conversation.

"So, what are we having for breakfast?" Amusingly enough, they told her at great length, waxing almost poetic about tomatoes and sausages, and then going into further heights of ecstasy over the mushrooms they found in the woods. She couldn't help from smiling and laughing at their antics.

Soon enough, Gandalf had them packing up and getting ready for the days trek. She eagerly pitched in and helped. As they walked, she asked Sam where he learned his cooking skills. "Cooking the bounty that nature provides is an extension of the joy of growing good things to eat," he told her. Smiling, she agreed with him. As she walked with Frodo and Sam, they talked about their home in a place called the Shire. It sounded idyllic and peaceful.

Sam spoke more of his love of gardening, and it took her back to some of her happiest memories when she was young. The memories of time spend in the garden with her mother were dear to her. It was a special joy they shared with each other before Grace's mother became ill. Every spring they started tomatoes and peppers, placing them in windows around the house until they could be safely planted. They had a vegetable garden and a flower garden, and the house was kept full of fresh flowers until the first frost came. She and Sam were quickly deep in conversation about seeds and soil and how much they both hated weeding.

"I was the youngest in my family," she told him, "they always made me do the weeding; they said I was closest to the ground. I kept believing that one day I would catch up with them and we would share that chore."

"And did you?" Sam asked.

"Unfortunately not. Both of my brothers are much taller than I am and the closer to the ground argument was used every year. At least every year until..." she trailed off.

"Every year until what" Sam asked.

"My mom got sick, and we were all too busy taking care of her to keep the garden up. After she died, I tried, but I was too young to do it by myself. I gave up on the vegetable garden, but I was able to keep some of the flowers she planted healthy. It was never quite the same though. But still," she said brightly, "she left me with a love of growing things, and that is a good way to remember her. One day perhaps when I have time, I will have a garden again."

Legolas, who had been listening and smiling now and then as she and Sam compared notes, asked, "Why don't you have time now?"

"I have been so busy with school, trying to complete my degree, and keeping the house in fairly decent order, I just had to let some things go."

"School?" He asked with a puzzled look. The next few miles were spent in describing how children were educated in her time. They asked so many questions and were so amazed at her answers that she almost began to believe that they really did have no idea of what she was talking about.

After Legolas asked for the third time if they actually made people stay inside and sit still for long hours during the daylight, she laughed and said "When you put it that way it does seem rather like torture."

As the rest of the day continued on, Grace found time to speak with the other members of the group. She was a student, and she loved to learn, so she would find herself asking questions about where they each were from, and what their lives were like. She walked with Boromir for a while as he talked of a place called Minas Tirith. He called it the White City and told her how it would gleam in the sunlight. He spoke of his home with great love and feeling in his voice. Grace told him about New York and how the buildings were so tall that they looked as though they touched the sky. He looked at her with amazement. "How do people get up and down in buildings so tall?" he asked. That led to a whole other discussion about elevators. She explained they were small moving rooms that could lift people up or take them down hundreds of stories in a minute or so. They looked at her as though she was trying to convince them that she could turn lead into gold. So, she quickly abandoned the subject.

Gimli talked of living inside a mountain and told her how dwarves mined for gems and of the wonders they created with their treasures.

"Rocks and dirt, they are the foundations of which the land is made. If not for good rich earth and the minerals in the rocks that feed it, there would be no plants or trees." As he said the last part, he raised his voice and directed its pitch towards the elf walking slightly in front of them.

"I have never disparaged the place rocks and soil have in our world, Master Dwarf, I simply see no reason to spend my time grubbing about in them. Especially when I can be high in the tops of the trees with the wind and sun against my face," the elf replied.

"Humph," snorted the dwarf, "give me a cool, dark cavern full of the riches of the earth anytime over lounging about in tree tops that are far too high above the land. Feet belong on the ground, not on spindly tree branches."

"Perhaps one actually has to have some height to their body to enjoy the riches that exist above the level of an ant hill," laughed Legolas.

Grace watched in bemusement as the elf and dwarf traded barbs, each belittling the qualities of their respective races. Leaving them to their war of wits, she walked further ahead and found her self keeping pace with Aragorn. She was unsure of him, for of all of the members of the group, he seemed the most distant. Finally, she asked, "Is the war of words a regular occurrence between those two?" gesturing to the elf and dwarf who were still deep within their exchange of insults. The elf was more sly and cunning with his words, while the dwarf was straightforward and to the point. When the elf accused all dwarves of eating soil and ground-up rocks, thereby stunting the growth of their race, she had to stifle a laugh at the look of outrage on Gimli's face.

Aragorn gave a grim laugh and said, "It may be amusing now, but after a week or two of listening to them, the charm begins to pall. Come, let us walk a bit faster and perhaps, we will be beyond the sound of their bickering."

After they had walked ahead a few minutes, Grace spoke again, "The Hobbits have told me of their home, and Boromir and Gimli have spoken of theirs, too. Where do you make your home?"

Aragorn was silent for so long that she began to think she had asked an inappropriate question. Finally, he answered, "For many years, I have not had a place to call home, I have lived and traveled in the wilds for so long. I suppose I would have to say that the elven city of Imladris is the closest place I can call home. It is where my family lives."

"I understand that, no matter where I was living while I went to school, home is always where the ones you love dwell. Tell me about your home."

Smiling with a distant look in his eyes, he described a hidden valley, where he was raised far away from the evils they now faced. "My father was killed when I was young, and I was raised by elves, one of which became as a father to me and his sons became my brothers. They created a safe haven for my mother and myself, and taught me with wisdom and grace. All I have accomplished I owe to their guidance. It is my hope that someday I will be able to prove to them that I have learned well the lessons they imparted to me."

"It sounds as though they love you very much; I have no doubt they already see the fruit of their labors in your life. So, does Legolas live in Im la..dris?" she asked, stumbling a bit over the strange name.

"No, he is from the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood, a forest kingdom that lies on the other side of the Misty Mountains. There are four elven realms left in Middle-earth: Imladris, Mirkwood, Mithlond, by the sea, and the hidden realm of Lothlorien."

"I see," she said, although in reality it all sounded a bit like a fairy tale to her.

"I need to scout ahead," Aragorn excused himself, but before he moved off, he turned his intense gaze upon her. "I am sorry for the loss of your family; I hope that you will have the opportunity to find comfort among us until we can find a safe place to leave you. There are many good people left in this land. It will take time, but you will find a place here among us." And with a gentle smile, his long strides took him away from her.

Pippin and Merry joined her after that; they were two of the most curious people she had ever met. They continued their questions of the day before, and she found her self telling them of her brothers and father. She told them of how her brothers teased her constantly, but would not allow any of their friends the same privilege. They laughed. Merry said, "I understand that, I am the only one who is allowed to torment this silly Took."

Pippin chimed in with, "And I will allow no one else to torture this blunder head from Buckland."

Legolas walked close to her for much of the day, simply enjoying watching her. She had an expressive face. _Her spirit may be elven,_he thought, _but she is too young to have yet learned to school her features into the impassive face that we usually present to the world_ Watching her as she laughed at the hobbits or listened intently to each of them describe their home gave him a feeling of warm contentment

When Gimli said something about the wood elf, she glanced over at him and asked, "What exactly is a wood elf? Are there other types of elves: water elves and sky elves perhaps?" she said with a teasing tone in her voice He tried to think of how to explain it to her without going into a long history of the sundering of the elves and the differences between them.

Finally, he simply said, "Wood elves, at least those of my kin, dwell within the forests of Middle earth. We have a strong affinity with all growing things along with the ability to commune and converse with the trees and animals and nature itself."

She stared at him for a moment, and then her laughter rang forth. "So, you are telling me you talk to the trees?"

A smile quirked his lips as he answered, "Probably not in the manner you are thinking of, but all living things have their own voice. Surely, you have listened to the sound of the wind rustling in the trees or water as it trips over stones and have heard the mummer of words speaking to you."

She shook her head. "While it is true I have heard such sounds, they have never spoken to me. They are beautiful and pleasing to the ear, but there is no communication there."

"Ah," he said, "that is because you have not taken the time to truly listen. When we have time, I will help you hear their voices."

She looked at him doubtfully. " Well, I guess I am willing to try anything once."

"Actually, he went on to say, "although I was born and raised and count myself as kin to the Silvan elves, I have the blood of both Silvan and Sindar mixed into my blood." At her confused look he said, "Another lesson for another time. It will not, however, require sitting inside for hours when the sun is high and warm and the breeze is soft against our faces." He smiled down into her eyes as he said this, and sweetly he found her smiling back at him..

Grace had been surprised that she responded as she did to Legolas. He had taken her off guard when he looked into her eyes. His presence brought warmth and peace she did not understand.

She continued talking with whoever walked beside her, but whenever she began to ask questions about where they were going and exactly what was this quest they were all on, the conversation fell strangely quiet. They avoided her eyes and spoke of dangerous lands filled with evil creatures, but they never really answered her. After a while, she quit asking.

By the time they stopped for the night, she had talked with all of them for a while, and she found herself enthralled by the stories they told her. She almost felt as though she should be writing some of this down so she could remember it for later. They had certainly made up a rich history for themselves. She wondered how long they had been playing at this game. Grace's PhD consisted of multiple areas of study. It combined Anglo-Saxon legend with the literature, history, music and art that reflected the myths they represented. The stories these travelers told her enchanted her and quickened a curiosity within her to learn more about them. She had to stop at one point and remind herself that all of what they shared with her was conceived from their own minds. The stories were not real, although she half wished they were. She would continue to play their game with them, at least until she could find a way to escape.

After a brief dinner, she settled down on the cloak that Boromir provided for her. Her gaze caught on the bag she carried with her. _Of course_, she thought, _how could I have forgotten_. Glancing around, she noticed that no eyes were on her, so she opened her bag and pulled out her cell phone. There was no signal. She wasn't really surprised this far into the wilderness as it was unlikely that there would be one. Turning the phone off to conserve the battery, she planned to keep trying. She would find her path home one way or another.

The next few days went pretty much the same way; she made a point to be positive and to spend time with each member of the group. They began to accept her as one of them, although they never told her exactly where they were going. She noticed each night that they paid a little less attention to her when she left camp to take care of her private needs. The only one who always seemed to have his eyes on her was the elf. She realized that he would have to be absent when she decided to try to escape.

The next evening when they stopped for camp, Gandalf said they would spend two nights in this location. He wanted some time to ponder the route they would continue on, and he felt a long rest would be good for them all. Legolas returned from scouting the area and mentioned that there was a small lake just a short distance from their encampment. Thoughts of a bath filled Grace's mind, and she asked if it would be alright if she went and had a good wash. Aragorn hesitated, but seeing the longing in her eyes, finally agreed. Some of the members of the group donated clothes so she could wash the ones she was wearing. She had expressed her desire for a bath several times during their hike.

Aragorn led her to the lake, and after she stared pointedly at him, he left her there alone. The lake was crystal clear and not very large. The trees came almost up to the shore line, leaving only a few yards between them and the water. Expecting a chilly plunge, she was surprised at how warm the water was and she wondered if the lade was fed by some hot springs. After a good scrub, both of her body and her clothes, she felt almost normal again. Dressing herself in the clothes they gathered for her, she smiled ruefully. She looked like she had gone to a thrift store to shop and found nothing in her size. Gathering up her wet

things, she started to make her way back to the camp.

Halfway back, she found Gandalf waiting for her, perched on a rock and puffing his ever present pipe. "Come, sit down, Grace." Peering at her, he said, "You seem to being doing better."

"I was taught to always make the best of what I was given. You have all been kind to me, haven't hurt me and I suppose eventually I will find my way home."

Gandalf sighed, "So, you still do not believe what I told you?"

"Well", she said, "you have to admit it is pretty far fetched, but for the moment I am content."

"So. no plans to leave our company?" he asked.

She shrugged, "Where would I go? I have no idea where we are exactly, and even less idea where we are going, seeing as how no one seems to be interested in telling me exactly what is going on."

"And that is for all our safety. I have no doubt that eventually you will have to know, but I think it is best for you not to have to worry about it for a while." Standing, he looked her over, "I see that you have gained a change of clothing." Reaching out, he fingered the soft shirt she was wearing. "That looks like Frodo's," and gazing down at the pants that she had tied a rope around to keep up, "and surely those are Pippin's. Only the hobbits were willing to share with you?"

"Actually, I think they were the only ones whose clothes came even close to fitting me. I'm not picky, at least they are clean and comfortable, and it lets me wash my own things. Since we are staying here for two days, it will give my jeans and shirt time to dry."

Lifting his head, he sniffed the air, "Ah, I think that dinner is ready. Come, Grace, let us get some food. You look as though you could do with a good meal."

**A/N **To all who have reviewed, I thank you, and to those who have not I encourage you to do so. Reviews are the rich payment of all fan fiction authors we count them as treasure.


	7. Chapter 7: A Nice Day for a Swim

**A/N** Thank you to my beta Nieriel Raina, all mistakes are my own and not hers.

Chapter 7: A Nice Day for a Swim

_In fact the subjects of the king mostly lived and hunted in the open woods, and had houses or huts on the ground and in the branches….._

----J.R.R. Tolkien, _Flies and Spiders, _The Hobbit--

Bird song woke Grace the next morning. Yawning, she arched her back extending her arms far above her head, easing her muscles which had stiffened during sleep. She tilted her neck from side to side, popping the creaks out. Today would be one of rest; she was clean, and at the moment, she was warm and fairly comfortable. Lifting her head, she glanced around the camp. The fire had died down and was nothing more than a few smoldering embers. Everyone was still asleep. The sun had not yet risen, and the sky was the faint gray that announced dawn was near. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she stood up. No one moved. As she looked around, she saw that Legolas, Aragorn, and Gandalf were missing from the camp.

Grace decided to walk back to the lake where she bathed the night before. She wouldn't mind washing her face and rinsing her mouth out, and she would kill for a toothbrush. It seemed she remembered reading something in a history class about people using some kind of twigs to clean their teeth before toothbrushes were invented; maybe she would try that. Leaving the camp behind, Grace wandered down to the lake. It really was lovely. Standing there looking at the mist covered lake, Grace felt a sense of peace settle on her, and then an idea began to form in her mind. No one had seen her leave, and no one had followed her. She could just keep going, and surely, she would. run into some kind of civilization: a highway or a road, eventually.

Glancing around the lake, she realized that the trees were just too dense for her to make her way around to the other side without difficulty. The thought of putting that lake between her and her captors was very appealing. Turning back to the lake she made up her mind. The body of water was not that large; she would swim to the other shore. She had spent endless summers working as a lifeguard. It was a great summer job, paid well, was a lot of fun, and most importantly, it made her a very strong swimmer. She should be able to swim this distance easily. If she started right now the mist would soon swallow any trace of her. There would be no tracks for them to follow. She regretted having to leave her bag with her phone in it behind, but this was just too good an opportunity to pass up. Making a sudden decision, she waded into the water. She realized after a few strokes she was going to have to lose the heavy hiking boots she was wearing; fortunately, she hadn't tied them when she slipped them on to leave the camp. She didn't know how easy it would be to walk in these woods without something on her feet, but she would cross that bridge later, for now she just wanted to concentrate on reaching the other side, and freedom.

Legolas and Aragorn entered camp. They had taken the last watch of the night and returned looking forward to a hearty breakfast. The others were just beginning to stir. Sam was tending the fire, building it back up, so he could cook over it. Legolas glanced around, and then turned to Sam. "Where is Grace?" he asked sharply.

"I suppose she is still a sleep. I just got up myself."

Legolas stalked to where the cloak Boromir loaned Grace lay on the ground. "She is not here. Did you see her leave camp?"

Sam shook his head, "I didn't hear or notice anything, Master Elf. I thought everyone was still sleeping. Maybe she went down to the lake; she seems to take great stock in getting clean."

Legolas turned to Aragorn. "We should find her; she does not realize the danger that she could be in, and I do not think she yet understands how treacherous these lands can be."

Aragorn glanced over at him. "Go on to the lake. I will rouse Boromir and Gimli; they can lend their aid in helping us search for her." Passing by Legolas, he laid a hand on his shoulder. "Do not worry so. She simply may have gone to the water to get clean as Sam said."

Legolas nodded and walked from the camp. Finding her trail was not difficult, and, he followed it to the lake. There at the water's edge, it ended, and he looked out over the mist covered lake. Tilting his head he listened, he could hear in the distance sounds of someone moving through the water. Turning he faced Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli as they came through the trees His voice was strained as he told them "She is swimming across the lake.".

"She will reach the other side before we can break through the trees and brush to reach her," Aragorn replied. "We may very well lose her among the trees."

."Do not worry I will return with her," and swinging himself into a nearby tree, Legolas started the journey around the lake, moving with stealth, through the tree tops.

When Grace began to believe she would never reach the opposite shore, her feet finally found the bottom, and she waded out of the water, and swiftly blended into the tree line. Looking over her shoulder, she saw the mist on the lake was just starting to rise, but she could see no evidence of anyone following her. After she moved a few feet into the forest, she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. The swim was longer than she thought it would be, and it left her more winded than expected. Looking down at her dripping clothes and bare feet, she grimaced. This was going to be a very uncomfortable walk.

Squaring her shoulders, she gave one last glance behind her before starting forward, and bounced smack into a very solid chest. She staggered back a bit before strong arms reached out to grab her shoulders. She stared up at him. How had he found her so quickly? How had he appeared as though from thin air? She should have heard him coming! She shivered as he looked at her with enigmatic eyes. He didn't look angry, but then again, he didn't look friendly either. He was simply just there, in her way, and it did not look as though he planned on moving

Finally, Legolas stepped back. "And exactly where did you think you were going?"

"It seemed like a nice day for a swim," she shrugged.

"Indeed." Glancing down at her bare feet, he asked quietly, "And just where are your shoes?"

"Uhmm…….. Well, they are in the lake. They got a little heavy and…" she trailed off.

Placing a long slender finger beneath her chin, he lifted her face and looked into her eyes. "Little one, how exactly have you managed to survive for so long on your own?" he asked softly.

"You sound just like my brothers," she grumbled.

"Oh, but I am not your brother," and the tone in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. "We are going to have to return to camp, and you will need to change out of those wet things." His eyes fell her to her bare feet, and slowly moved up her body, lingering and obviously noting how the wet garments molded themselves to her form. The look in his eyes made her tremble.

She wrapped her arms defensively around herself. "How did you manage to find be so fast? I didn't hear you, and with the brush being so thick, I should have."

"That is because I did not come through the brush or even across the land, and we will return the same way I came."

She gave him a puzzled look. Legolas once again reached out and tilted her chin up, so he could look into her eyes. "Grace" he said, his tone very serious, "you must do exactly what I tell you. If you do not, you could cause both of us grave injury."

She sighed and nodded. She wasn't getting away from them today, and after this, she had a feeling they would keep a much closer eye on her.

He stepped closer to her. "Put your arms around my neck." She glanced up at him in confusion. "I mean you no harm, but you will need to hang on tightly." When she did not do as he instructed, he lifted her arms and placed them around him. "Tighter," he said, clasping one arm around her waist as he reached up with the other to grasp a tree limb, swinging them both into the tree.

She needed no further encouragement. She clung as tightly as she could, risking a peek down as he climbed higher into the tree tops, she felt her stomach lurch. She never had liked heights. She got shaky just thinking about being this high up. Grace buried her face into his neck where it met his shoulder and hung on for dear life. She heard him give a soft chuckle, and then he was off running through the trees. Screwing her eyes tightly shut, she tried not to think about how far down the ground was. This went on for several minutes, and then it stopped. Cautiously, she raised her head. They were still high in the tops of the trees, but he had paused on a sturdy limb. She could feel his eyes on her as she looked up at him. "I thought we should stop, so you could take a breath. I began to think you had decided to stop breathing all together." She looked down and clutched at him harder. He laughed and pulled her more closely to his body. "Don't worry, little one, I have you. I won't let you fall."

Looking over his shoulder, her eyes widened, and she breathed, "What is that?"

His eyes followed her gaze to land on a majestic sight, a high, jagged peak covered in snow and ice. "The mountain peak Caradhras, where the Redhorn Gate lies. It is part of a chain called the Misty Mountains, which runs for hundreds of miles north to south. We have been traveling west of them since you joined us. The trees have no doubt hidden it from your sight."

"That's not possible! There are no peaks that high in the Appalachians. They are a chain of eroding mountains. They hold no peaks that high or rugged. It is not possible," she whispered again.

She trembled against him, and he tightened his hold. "I do not know these Appalachians that you speak of - the only mountains here are these, and you are correct, Caradhras is rugged and cruel. It is a dangerous pass to maneuver. I hope that it will not be necessary for us to travel that path. I think Mithrandir is considering going south, possibly through the Gap of Rohan." Legolas cupped her chin in his hand and looked down at her, "Are you ready to go on?" She nodded, and once again buried her face in his shoulder as he continued his trek through the trees.

She didn't lift her head again until she felt her feet back on solid ground. She looked up and found Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli regarding her curiously. They did not seem angry with her; their expressions were more puzzled and concerned than upset. Legolas gave her a gentle push forward. "Go on back to the camp with them. I will try to find your shoes, and perhaps, we can dry them out before we continue our journey tomorrow." Silently she followed the other three back to the camp.

The others all turned to look up as the small group entered the clearing. Sam was preparing breakfast. Without saying a word, she picked up her dry clothes and took them to change. When she came back, she settled herself down on the cloak she used to sleep in. She had some major thinking to do. Her glimpse of that mountain peak had shaken her to her very core. She was no longer in the Appalachians, in fact, she had no idea where she was, and it frightened her to death. There were too many unexplained things she had pushed to the side and ignored. Grace knew a time of reckoning had arrived. She needed to focus all of her energy on solving this puzzle.

**A/N **I love and treasure reviews, please let me know what you think of this tale.


	8. Chapter 8: Puzzles to Solve

**A/N **Thank you to the best beta ever, Nieriel Raina. Any mistakes are my own and not hers.

Chapter 8 Puzzles to Solve

_"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."…… Hamlet: Act 1, Scene 5_

_---William Shakespeare---_

Most of the small group of travelers gathered around the fire and talked. This was the first day of rest taken since their departure from Imladris. Occasionally, they would glance over at the young woman, who having spread her cloak under a large Chestnut tree, sat quietly. Sam brought her a cup of tea, which she accepted with a distracted smile and a soft thank you. Now, she was still, staring into the distance with a look of great concentration on her face.

All of them visited the lake to bathe and swim at some point throughout the morning, but when the noon meal passed with Grace eating nothing more than an apple and some nuts, Gimli stood to walk over to her. She was obviously distressed and he was worried about her state of mind. She had treated him with kindness as they traveled together. Dwarves were not the most beloved race in Middle-earth, so he had some experience with being an outsider. He could only imagine what must be going through the young lass' mind. Before he could reach her side, Gandalf called out to him, and detouring, he turned to the other side of the clearing where the wizard was talking with Aragorn and Legolas.

"Leave her be, Gimli," he told the dwarf. "I think that she needs this time to make sense of what she is only beginning to realize."

The dwarf sat down heavily beside them. "I do not like to see her so shaken."

Legolas turned to look at her, concern evident in his eyes. "None of us do, but she must come to the truth on her own. When she does, she will have need of us, until then we can do nothing. Although," he continued, "I think that perhaps there is another who could use some encouragement and company. His burden is far heavier than any of us carry." He directed Gimli's gaze to where Frodo sat in solitude. All of the Hobbits spent some time at the water during the morning. Sam dabbled at the edge of the lake, but would go no farther than that, but Pippin, Frodo and Merry had splashed and swam in the deeper water. Now, without company beside him, Frodo assumed the saddened and pained expression that was far too often on his face. "Gimli, there is one who could use some cheer. I suppose I must try to alleviate his sorrow. Valar knows, the thundering glower of a dwarf will do him no good."

"You think that dwarves do not make merry, Master Elf? I wager we could instruct even the wood elves in gaiety. We would surely be able to teach you to drink something better than that swill the elves call wine."

Legolas gazed at the dwarf and lifted one imperial brow. "Swill, Master Dwarf? I will have you know that my father serves only the finest vintages, the exquisite taste of such I am sure would lost on the palate of a mere dwarf."

Gimli snarled at the elf, and Legolas stood to tower over him.

"Ahmm," Gandalf interjected, "I believe that you were discussing offering some support and joy to Frodo. You both seem to have wandered rather far from the subject at hand. "

Glancing at each other, the elf and dwarf turned as one to make their way over to the unsuspecting Hobbit.

Aragorn stood and stretched, arching his back. "I suppose I better go along with them, otherwise one may not come back at all, and no good would have been done in lifting Frodo's spirits, unless, of course, he would take joy in the dismemberment of elf or dwarf." Giving the wizard a slight nod and smile, he moved to join the duo standing in front of the small Hobbit.

Grace sat on her cloak, her mind spinning with thought, _OK, Grace you can figure this out_._ This is what you have done for the past two years, collect data and analyze it._ First, the data: the light flash was definitely the place to begin with her ruminations. After that moment, everything changed. She no longer recognized the clearing she and her brothers lunched in. It was as though in a brief moment, she was transported to a different place. She grew up near the Appalachians, and she knew the scenery; the plants and trees that marked their journey were not part of the Appalachian region.

Then there were the travelers she was with and their claims of belonging to mythical races. The Hobbits looked nothing like any kind of creature she had ever seen, and while plastic surgery may have something to do with that, she now doubted it was the case. There were none of the tell tale signs such drastic steps taken to change their appearance would leave behind. Grace recalled watching a TV show about a woman who wanted to look like a cat; her appearance afterwards was freakish and noticeably, not natural. The four Hobbits' features were very much a part of them. While their ears and feet were unusual, they were obviously real. The same applied for the dwarf and the elf.

The elf moved, spoke and looked differently than the two men did. Subtle differences, but they were there. He moved with a sense of surety and grace, almost as though he were one with his surroundings. He looked so young, and yet his eyes reflected wisdom, knowledge, and confidence normally found in those far older than he. Legolas was a conundrum. She remembered the feeling of flying through the trees in his arms. He moved through then as though it were a walk in the park, instead of dangerously soaring far above the ground. She knew of no human who had such ability. Even Tarzan used vines to swing through the trees. She kept her eyes closed for much of that journey, but the brief glimpses she risked remained burned into her memory. She could swear that the trees themselves smoothed his path, placing and moving their branches to help him move quickly and safely through them.

The dwarf looked as though he had been molded from the very stone that he so adored. He called himself a dwarf, but the resemblance to any little people she knew was non-existent. He was perfectly proportioned, and he fairly radiated a sense of stability and a solidness that bespoke his nature. Gimli treated her with kindness and care, and carried a sense of nobility in his bearing, which made her feel ashamed that she could ever doubt him

That brought her to Aragorn and Boromir, two men, yet very different. The one thing they held in common was the code of honor they both lived by. Grace had talked with each of them at length, and while they were different in the way they expressed themselves, Aragorn, was quiet, where Boromir was more outspoken. She felt she could easily place her safe keeping in their hands and rest peacefully knowing they would protect her even at the cost of their own lives. They seem to represent heroes from the legends and myths she studied so industriously while in college.

The wizard she left for last. He was an enigma Grace had shoved to the back of her mind, uncomfortable with examining the power he so apparently exuded. He used it on her to calm her and soothe while she was in the first throes of panic and fright. The language he imbued her with was so unexplainable that she had refused to even examine what it meant. She no longer had that luxury; the veils she tried to hide behind were rent in two, the proverbial scales ripped from her eyes. She couldn't pretend this was a somewhat odd adventure that was going to end with her returning home carrying an exciting tale to tell. Gandalf gave her knowledge that she did not originally possess. She automatically spoke a language she never had studied or even heard before. Through practice, she discovered that she maintained the ability to speak her native tongue, but she needed to make the effort to do so. In unthinking communication, it was the language that Gandalf told her was Westron or the common tongue that flowed from her lips. No mere man would have been able to give her such ability. She shook her head ruefully; she truly had ignored much in her attempt to believe that these were just some strange individuals playing at a game.

But the concept of changing time and place? Surely, if things like that happened, it would be recorded somewhere. Then, she remembered a documentary she watched about the Bermuda Triangle. There was a story about two squadrons of planes that disappeared over the area never to be found. What was it one of the pilots in the first group to be lost had said over the radio while asking for help? The sky looked funny, and the horizon wasn't where it was supposed to be; everything was different. Those words seemed ominously similar to the way she had felt after the burst of intense light that changed everything.

The way this group functioned and treated her pointed to them being exactly what they said they were. What she first thought were costumes, unmistakably were not, these clothes were lived in, familiar to the ones who wore them. Remembering the hobbits going though their things to give her clothes, further confirmed that impression. Thinking about what Aragorn wore, she smiled. Certainly he would look for a costume that was less dirty, torn, and so noticeably lived in. She once handed to Gimli the helm that the Dwarf wore almost constantly, and it was no light weight costume piece; it was heavy and the workmanship remarkable, and very foreign to her eyes. Remembering the feel of the material pressed to her cheek while the elf held her in his arms made her realize that she had never felt anything like that fabric either from a natural or synthetic source.

She remembered something she had read in some detective novel, "Eliminate the possible and whatever is left, however impossible must be the truth." She took a deep breath. The manner in which each member of the party behaved was totally consistent with what they first told her. They never tried to hurt her, they made sure she was fed and cared for, and they offered their friendship. It was true that trust had not been extended to her, at least regarding what their quest was, but she could hardly blame them for that. It was bizarre, implausible and sounded mad, but it fit, it made sense and analysis of everything she learned supported it. Gandalf had told her the truth.

At that moment of acceptance, a raw sob of grief escaped her lips. She was never going back, never going to see her dad and brothers and friends again. They would never know what happened to her. Everything that mattered in her life, her hopes and dreams, were stolen away in a brief moment of what seemed to be a horrible cosmic joke. She was in a strange place and time with people she didn't know, and she could never return to all she loved. She felt consumed by heartache as sobs shook her small frame.

Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn returned with a happier Frodo. Legolas found Grace sitting in the same position she was in before they left camp that afternoon. It looked as though she had turned all awareness inward, her eyes unfocused, and her posture stiff. He watched the play of emotions cross the young woman's face. He saw the moment of acceptance and then the insurmountable pain that followed. Immediately, he was on his feet crossing to her. He enfolded her in his arms and spoke soothing words of comfort. Grace clung to him, as though he represented the only stable point she could find in a storm tossed sea, and cried wrenching tears of sorrow. He shared the sorrow she felt, but could not deny the bittersweet joy it gave him to have her in his arms.

Grace whispered through her sobs, "Thomas Wolfe was right you can't go home again." The elf holding her drew back and looked down at her in confusion. She had a mad impulse to laugh. Of course, he did not know who Thomas Wolfe was, no one here did. She permitted him to pull her back into his arms, and she rested her head against his shoulder, as she allowed this being who was not human to comfort her in a time and place that was not her own.

**A/N **Reviews are always welcome. I really, truly read and enjoy each one!


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